


Even if i wasn't worth your time

by skullage



Series: i'm not done yet (falling for you) [3]
Category: Block B, Winner (Band)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skullage/pseuds/skullage
Summary: The before, and the after.





	Even if i wasn't worth your time

Even though he knew about Minho and Jiho’s history, even though he knew about the way idols from different groups interact on stage, he doesn’t expect it. His eyes meet Jiho’s, and Jiho pulls him close, and it feels like they already know each other. He feels comfortable, in front of the camera and the lights, and when Jiho sidles up to him later when everything else is done, Seungyoon says yes, because it’s exciting, because he’s not used to being the object of someone’s affection. He’s an idol, now. It’s just sinking in. People want him.

“Jiho asked me on a date,” he says to Minho, fifteen minutes after during the car ride back to the dorm. He says it as nonchalantly as possible, as if by imagining himself being cool about it he will be, but the fact that he’s forcing himself to be nonchalant cancels it out.

Minho looks up from his phone but not at Seungyoon. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

After a minute, Minho finally looks at him. “No, I meant, when did he ask you?”

“Just before, backstage.”

“Oh,” Minho says. He stares down at his phone for several minutes while Seungyoon tries to gauge his reaction but his eyes and hands don’t move. “Have fun,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

—

Jiho meets him at Jamwon, where Seungyoon’s already sitting on the grass by the river. Even without full stage makeup, he looks good, fills out his clothes, his blond hair pushed back off his face, sunglasses on. He immediately lays a blanket down next to Seungyoon and motions for him to sit, which Seungyoon does with a pretend sigh. 

“So much effort,” he says as he shuffles over on his knees, and Jiho laughs, setting a basket down in the middle. He lets Seungyoon open it and pull out containers full of fruit, chocolate, cheese, shrimp summer rolls, japgwapyon, a flask full of banana milk. “Wow, you really did all this.”

Jiho shrugs, taking off his glasses. “I’m not a cheap first date.”

“You know I’m going to expect this level of effort from you now.”

Jiho tugs at the neckband of his shirt. “I may have peaked too early.”

Seungyoon laughs, because there’s nothing about Block B’s Zico, or Woo Jiho, that suggests he’s even come close to peaking. He picks out a strawberry and holds it up to the sun. “I’m always wary about strawberries. As a kid I bit into one that was mouldy on the inside, and now I don’t trust them.”

“They usually go mouldy on the outside, too.”

“That’s what was so perplexing.” 

As he bites into it, he can feel Jiho’s eyes on him and juice run down his chin, but he does nothing about either except meet Jiho’s gaze. He feels the intensity of it right down in his stomach, in his belly button as if there’s a string attached to it, and lower. Jiho probably doesn’t even realise how he’s looking at Seungyoon, but Seungyoon knows what it’s like to be caught in it, now, how people could fall at Jiho’s feet, cut grass, shucked wheat. The sweetness fills his mouth and it’s something he’ll realise later, months or years after this day, that this look Jiho gives him always brings with it the taste of ripe strawberries. 

“It’s good,” he says, wiping his chin. Jiho breaks his stare to grab one himself, peeling the leaves off and popping the whole thing in his mouth. Maybe Seungyoon shouldn’t watch Jiho eat, but he knows Jiho is watching him, and it makes him feel something—shy, maybe, even though he doesn’t get shy, not around other people. But. Jiho isn’t like other people. There’s an element of danger and recklessness about his image that Seungyoon can’t deny he is attracted to, that was probably the reason he said yes to begin with. Added to that is his air of mystery, how Minho refused to introduce them, and it built Jiho up to be this untouchable, unreachable figure in Seungyoon’s mind, but looking at him now—there’s still a bit of that untouchability, but he glances at Seungyoon the way Seungyoon wants to be glanced at by him, and inevitability takes its course.

Jiho watches Seungyoon eat more than he himself eats, commenting on the way Seungyoon spills mulberry juice down his fingers. “Do you want some help?” Jiho asks, laughing, and Seungyoon thinks of him pulling Seungyoon’s fingers to his mouth, licking it up, says, “Yes,” too quickly, and Jiho’s eyebrows rise. 

Seungyoon looks away, laughs, says, “I didn’t mean to say that,” even though he did, really, because he wants Jiho in a way he never thought he would want someone.

Jiho takes his hand, even though there are people around, and rubs his thumb across the web of Seungyoon’s fingers, smearing the black juice there. “Do you want to come back to mine?” Jiho asks, and Seungyoon finds himself nodding as he tears his eyes away, meeting Jiho’s again, feeling the same tug.

“Yes,” he says.

—

The only thing Jiho has in his fridge, because the picnic basket is still on the kitchen bench where he left it, is bokbunjaju. He must have forgotten, because when he opens it to show Seungyoon he immediately closes it again.

“Ah,” he says, looking for the first time that Seungyoon’s ever seen, in real life or on camera, flustered. “I forgot to go shopping.”

“You really had high expectations for this date,” Seungyoon says, and Jiho puts up his hands.

“No, no no no, that’s not it at all,” and he’s so cute Seungyoon can’t even pretend to be mad, he just walks over and stands in front of him.

“You don’t need it,” Seungyoon says, “but you should take me into your bedroom all the same.”

Jiho nods, looking surprised again, as if maybe, for all the effort he went to, he really wasn’t expecting this. His hand is warm in Seungyoon’s as he leads him there, looking over his shoulder twice with a smile that completely destroys the image Seungyoon built up of him in his head. 

It’s just light touching and kissing, at first, Seungyoon’s hand on Jiho’s hip, Jiho’s curled around Seungyoon’s ear, their mouths meeting softly as they lie on Jiho’s bed. Seungyoon must be terrible at it but Jiho is patient with him, using his tongue mostly to lick at Seungyoon’s lips, even though Seungyoon knows, has heard, people are supposed to use more tongue than that. It feels nice, though, and he’s getting used to it by the time Jiho pulls away. 

“No, don’t,” Seungyoon whines, “I was enjoying that.”

“I was just going to ask—how far are you comfortable going?”

“Oh.” Seungyoon hadn’t thought about it. All the feeling in his stomach is telling him is to touch Jiho as much as possible. He pushes his hand up Jiho’s shirt to feel the warmth of his skin and he hears Jiho take a breath. “I don’t even know what to do. This is all new to me.”

Jiho’s brow furrows. “Hold up, am I your first kiss?”

Seungyoon shrugs, because he’s not ashamed of it. It doesn’t matter that he’s twenty; he was too focused on building his career until Minho—until this, now, until Jiho watched him eat strawberries and touched his hand and it lit up something inside him he’d never given thought to before. 

“Oh, then we have to do this right. There should be mood music and candles.”

“It feels right to me,” Seungyoon says, and Jiho’s smirk falls only to be replaced by something with a lot more heat. “Can you just—touch me? I don’t know where I want you to touch me, just as long as you do.”

“I can do that,” Jiho says. He follows through by curling and arm around Seungyoon’s waist, pulling him closer just to roll them over until he’s on top and Seungyoon is looking up at him. “This okay?”

Seungyoon nods. It’s better like this, because when Jiho kisses him again their chests are flush and he can feel the heat of him through their clothes. He doesn’t know what he wants until Jiho bites down on his earlobe and he bucks his hips up, hissing at the friction it creates when his erection comes into contact with Jiho’s. Even through their jeans he can feel it, how hard Jiho is, just from kissing him. 

“Fuck,” Seungyoon says, whining again. 

Jiho pulls back, concern in his voice when he asks, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, but can you just—touch me—I need to—” He reaches down to pop the button on his jeans and Jiho immediately reaches inside them, kissing Seungyoon again. 

He almost pulls back in surprise before Jiho wraps a hand around him and the thought gets lost in the sensations. So _that’s_ what he wants. Jiho seems to know him better than he knows himself right now, or maybe sex isn’t that complicated; Seungyoon wouldn’t know. 

Jiho kisses down his jaw and neck to the open collar of his shirt and between that and the way Jiho pulls him out of his jeans to stroke him properly, Seungyoon is putty beneath him. He pulls back to look down at where his hand is wrapped around Seungyoon’s cock, says, “Woah,” and Seungyoon laughs, asks, “What?” 

“Wouldn’t have expected that,” Jiho says, smirking. “You really are a winner.”

Seungyoon shrugs. “People always say that bigger is better but it’s not like that’s ever mattered.”

“Can I suck you off?” Jiho asks.

“Can you… what?” Seungyoon didn’t spend enough time being bullied in school for being queer to know what Jiho is talking about, and Jiho smiles like that’s cute. 

“Use my mouth. On you.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yes, really. Haven’t you ever watched porn?”

“No, I just read the sex ed pamphlets in the school nurse’s office. They weren’t very helpful.”

Jiho smothers his laugh in Seungyoon’s neck, and he can feel the puffs of air, the wetness of his lips, the way his shoulders shake. He never imagined he would be here, with Jiho, like this, or that he would feel so safe having sex, so wanted. There’s something about Jiho that makes him feel that way—the way Jiho looks at him, maybe, the way his laughter turns into kissing and his hands run up Seungyoon’s sides under his shirt.

“Yes,” Seungyoon says, playing with a strand of hair that’s curled over Jiho’s forehead, “that sounds nice.”

Seungyoon leans on his elbows as Jiho moves down his body and feels the stirrings of nerves watching him settle between his thighs, pulling his jeans down a little, wrapping a hand around him again. The first touch of his lips sends a current through Seungyoon’s body and he doesn’t mean to, but he bucks up into Jiho’s mouth, an automatic reaction. As Jiho holds his hips down with one hand and sinks lower, every part of Seungyoon that he touches with his hands or mouth feels lit up.

He doesn’t count the minutes but it doesn’t take him long to come, and he can feel Jiho’s throat flex around him as he swallows, doesn’t realise how taut his body is until he falls back on the bed with a sigh. Jiho licks him clean until Seungyoon is soft again, breathing more heavily than before and tired as if he’s been running. 

“That was,” Seungyoon says, but stops when he can’t find the words. “Is it always like that?”

Jiho moves forward until he’s leaning over Seungyoon on his hands and knees and wipes a hand across his mouth. “Yeah, sometimes. Depends who you do it with. Sometimes it’s better if you like the person, but most of the time, if they’re good at it, then it doesn’t matter how much you like them.”

“I don’t think I want to do that with just anybody,” Seungyoon says, only realising how much of himself he’s giving away after it’s already out of his mouth.

“Well, I’m glad I’m not just anybody,” Jiho says.

Instead of hiding his face in his hands, Seungyoon leans up to kiss him again, tasting himself this time. He pulls Jiho down on top of him, craving contact, tugging at Jiho’s shirt until he gets the hint and sits back on his heels to take it off. Seungyoon sits up to do the same, decides, fuck it, and shoves his pants down, too. 

“Oh.” Jiho watched him for a few seconds before he gets behind the plan and helps, tossing Seungyoon’s jeans aside. 

“Your turn,” Seungyoon says, desperate to see the miles of his skin, to touch them, too. Jiho stands to push his jeans down and steps out of them and finally Seungyoon gets to see all of him. He motions for Jiho to come closer and Jiho does, letting Seungyoon pull him down, kissing Seungyoon the way Seungyoon wants to be kissed. He’s never felt this before: bare skin on bare skin, the heat of someone else’s body, someone else’s hand gripping his thigh the way Jiho’s is to pull Seungyoon’s leg around his waist, Jiho’s cock digging into his hip as he expels these little puffs of air that sound like _Yoon, Yoon, Yoon_.

—

The words are so fresh in his mouth he has barely had time to savor them.

“I don’t want to teach you how to love me,” he says, and Jiho’s smile drops from his face. Minho’s gone, distracted by the promise of food, the smell of microwaved leftovers coming from the kitchen, and it’s still snowing, and Seungyoon’s still got his guitar in his lap, and Jiho is still there. The motion of squeezing Seungyoon’s knee preempts what Seungyoon is about to say next. “You should already know.”

Jiho nods. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” 

Seungyoon leans forward to kiss him again. He’s not sure when it changed from a relationship to them being in love, just as he’s not sure when fucking every other week and crashing at Jiho’s house overnight turned into a relationship, if it could even be plotted that way, as if their relationship is as simple as a path from A to B. 

Maybe it is. Jiho’s always felt so solid to Seungyoon, so dependable, he has wanted for nothing else—not a touch or a kiss, not even a second thought to spare for Minho now that he’s walled those feelings behind the kind of glass that distorts their truth and makes them wonder if he ever felt them at all. He’s fulfilled, in Jiho’s arms and Jiho’s bed, and maybe it is that simple. If the both of them are cartographers of their relationship, they’ve made it easy to walk beside each other. 

—

The one thing that hasn’t changed since Seungyoon and Jiho started dating is Minho. He still steals the dregs of Seungyoon’s drinks, still sings too loudly in the shower, still falls asleep in Seungyoon’s recording studio while Seungyoon works, like he is now when Seungyoon’s phone lights up with another text from Jiho. This time it’s a picture of the take-out he’s bringing over. It’s been awhile and Seungyoon—he misses Jiho. Not the stilted text conversations and the expectation that Seungyoon will always wait for him, which is prevalent in all of their interactions now, but the Jiho who used to take Seungyoon out at three in the morning and kiss him him in the shadows between street lights, getting a rush at the thought that someone might see them, even though no one ever did. 

When Jiho comes in he’s flushed from the cold and he drops the food on Seungyoon’s desk. “Hi, hi, hi,” he says. He throws his jacket on the couch, only realising Minho is there when it lands on him instead. He turns his attention back to Seungyoon, and Seungyoon can’t help the affection he feels, even if a lot of the time it’s buried under disappointment that he can’t see Jiho more often and the lingering feeling that maybe Jiho doesn’t want to see him as much anymore. There are only so many times Jiho can choose work over him. Winner are on hiatus, still. There’s not a lot going on from his end.

Jiho leans over Seungyoon to kiss him, cupping his face with one hand and holding himself up on the arm of the chair with the other. “I missed you,” Jiho says, breathing it into Seungyoon’s mouth, the words tasting sweet and addictive. The kiss turns passionate with Seungyoon fisting the hem of Jiho’s sweater to pull him closer and Jiho ends up kneeling on the floor between Seungyoon’s thighs, the both of them losing themselves a bit, losing time and place to getting caught up in each other. Jiho pulls Seungyoon down too until he’s straddling Jiho’s hips, grinding down against him until they’re both hard, and it’s nothing more than pants shoved down and hands around each other’s cock while Minho sleeps behind them, neither of them admitting that’s what’s geting them off.

—

When Minho walks in on them, the look on Jiho’s face is too calculated for the situation to be anything but planned. They’ve been slipping away from each other for awhile but it’s that much more apparent that Jiho wants Minho now, even if he didn’t before, and it festers like an open wound for months, wearing him down, poisoning him. 

It festers until it starts to heal. Hours after, when Seungyoon has his head in order, Jiho stands up and kisses Seungyoon and Minho watches until they pull him up with them, but it’s never awkward between them, it’s a balancing act they’re lucky enough to get mostly right the first time they try. 

(When Seungyoon visits the set of Minho’s M/V he brings with him a message from Jiho that translates to Seungyoon on his knees while the crew set up for the next scene.)

People ask questions they don’t really want to know the answers to, but most people don’t ask anything at all. It becomes a part of their routines, loving each other, all three of them. When Jiho can’t come over, Seungyoon and Minho spend that time together. When Minho is busy filming, Seungyoon goes to Jiho’s to watch _New Journey To The West_ and send him their reactions. 

(The night after Minho celebrates with Jiwon, the three of them celebrate themselves, all coiled limbs and heat and bodies moving as one.)

It makes sense to them that Minho and Seungyoon have their own language, and that Jiho and Minho have in-jokes that go back to when they were teenagers, and that Seungyoon and Jiho know how to love each other already and in loving each other they know how to teach Minho to as well. 

It works. 

—

The days are still sunny and warm when they head to Jamwon, no basket this time, not even a blanket, but it doesn’t matter. They have the grass, and the water, and the wind, and they have each other. The way Seungyoon and Minho sit with their shoulders brushing, and the way Jiho splays on his back with his head rested in Minho’s lap, this time, right now, is one more thing that Seungyoon wouldn’t share with just anybody.

**Author's Note:**

> i dont wanna be your whole world honey, i just wanna hold your hand. i dont wanna teach you how to love me, dont you understand. / i dont wanna get married to a girl in a white dress, i want someone who can teach me how to get down. / all those letters on your skin, god only knows where you've been


End file.
